Roger Ashley’s Dedication for the Shavuot Panel

Shavuot 5773 / May 2013

By Joshua Becker

The fifth commandment is to honor thy father and thy mother.  I am therefore dedicating this contribution of learning in honor of my father-in-law, of blessed memory, who we physically lost about a month ago, Avraham Yonasson ben Gavriel HaCohen, or his English name, Roger.  Roger and my wife, Ellen, are descended from a famous eighteenth century rabbi, a luminary in Talmud and Kabbalah, Rabbi Yonasson Eybeschutz.  Roger and Rabbi Eybeschutz led very different lives, yet nonetheless the lives of a Jew, and it is in their commonalities that I wish to explore, namely that of foretold destiny, divine providence, Hashagata Protis, and a personal message to both men.

The relationship between Divine Providence and honor thy father and thy mother should be obvious.  G-d chooses your parents for you; you obviously don’t get to make that choice.  Let’s face it, G-d no less chooses your in-laws.  Well, Rabbi Eybeschutz, Roger, it was hashagata protis, there was a reason I was to marry the heir of an Eybeschutz.  It was besherit.

Roger, you were proud of Ellen and me for our steadfast involvement in Yiddishkeit; we hope Rabbi Eybeschutz is also kvelling and getting nachas.  I promise not to let either of you down.  We will continue striving.  We won’t let you down.  I will not let you down.  Rabbi Eybeschutz, I won’t relinquish the fatherly flame that burns from you and that which comes before you, from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, nor forget the flames of the ovens of the Holocaust that was the premonition for Roger’s family to move to America almost 200 years after Rabbi Eybeschutz’s own life.

In my life, I know I “married up.”  Not only did I marry an Eybeschutz descendent, I married the daughter of a Cohen.  There’s a world renowned rabbi, Rabbi Yosef Jacobson, who tells the following story:

A little girl approaches her mother and asks, “Mommy, where do we come from?  Who came before us?”  The mother answers, “You come from a long line of Jews, in fact your great-great grandfather wrote a very important work on Jewish law, and that line continued since the time of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”  The little girl then goes and asks the same question to her father in the other room, “Daddy, Where do we come from?”  “Well,” answers the father, “humans come from apes.  Apes come from less evolved life forms, like tadpoles.  Tadpoles come from the water, which grows bacteria, bacteria comes from a molecule.”  The little girl bursts out of the room crying to her mother, “Mommy!  Mommy!  Daddy told me something totally different than you!  He said we come from bacteria!”  The mother answers, “It’s true, from your father’s side of the family . . . ”  It’s true, I married into a dynasty, where I come from, eh . . . who knows?”

Shortly before Roger’s passing, Roger related that his father attended yeshiva on the Lower East Side of New York.  Roger didn’t know the name of the yeshiva, but what I can tell you, Rabbi Eybeschutz, is that nobody in Roger’s immediate family has since stepped foot into a yeshiva, until perhaps, me.  I hope the Schectman Yeshiva I attend brings to life the learning I’m sure you’d want to instill.

Since Roger’s own Bar-Mitzvah, I know of only three other times when Roger stepped foot into a Shul, one for our son Gavi’s bris, another for Gavi’s upshernish, and number three which I think actually preceded number one and number two, was to bring your pet greyhound, Blackie, to a synagogue for a communal pet prayer led by a rabbi.

After this pet ceremony, I spoke with Roger by phone who said something to the effect that, “I’m not so sure it’s really something we do.”  I replied, “It’s not.”  I feel guilty for having told this to you.  Let’s face it, Gavi’s bris and upshernish was somewhat compulsory, you attending this pet ceremony was of your own volition, and I should have honored that.  According to Jewish law, one must feed his animals before he feeds himself.  You always fed Blackie the finest meat, and of course, you fed Blackie before you fed yourself.

I know that inside Roger was the essence of a Jew.  Whenever Ellen and I had a problem, whether it was with Gavi or anything else, Roger would always have a positive outlook, he’d always tell us, “Ah, everything will work out.  It’ll be okay.”  From this oft repeated refrain, Roger, I’d often tell you over the phone that, “You’re my Chassid.”  The last several months before your death, during our phone conversations, it brings me great warmth to know that I referred to you as, “My Chassid.” 

The similarities between you both, Roger and Rabbi Eybeschutz, is that both of you are what we’d call today, brains.  Rabbi Eybeschutz’s intellect was known and is still known as one of the sharpest minds.  Both Jews and non-Jews flocked to Rabbi Eybeschutz due to his brilliance and charismatic countenance.  Roger, you’re no different.  It is no secret that your intelligence reaches well beyond the scope of the average person.  You attended Bronx Science, which everyone tells me was the school for the smart kids in New York.

When Roger and Gillian met our Rabbi and Rebbetzin Shomtkin in Milwaukee, to this day the Shmotkins talk about how incredibly impressed they were with Roger and Gillian’s intellect and how the whole Ashley family had the same mannerisms.

While the life of an eighteenth century rabbi and Roger’s profession as a twentieth century Air Force meteorologist might seem unrelated, there are striking similarities.  Rabbi Eybeschutz was born in Cracow, Poland.  Roger’s mother was from Poland.  Rabbi Eybeschutz traveled a great deal during his life, from Cracow to Vienna, to Prague, to Metz, and then to the three cities of Altona, Hamburg and Wansbeck, of which Rabbi Eybeschutz served as the chief rabbi for all three united communities.  Roger also did a great deal of traveling, being stationed in Japan, Germany, England, all over the United States, and even working in Greenland.  Wherever Roger went, his down to earth goodness also attracted others.

A rabbi and a military position are not all that different.  Both command respect and dignity to serve, Rabbi Eybeschutz as a chief rabbi, Roger as Chief Master Sergeant.  Both positions carry the weight of a nation, of a hope, of a destiny.

A rabbi is also a teacher.  Roger taught and made curriculum for a local flight school in Florida.  When Ellen was an elementary school student, Roger would come to Ellen’s class to teach about weather.

Rabbi Eybeschutz was not only a spiritual leader but a writer who made significant contributions to Jewish literature.  A writer is no doubt one who also loves to read.  Roger loved to read.  I remember him telling me he used to keep a rolodex of all the books he read throughout the years.  I remember Roger particularly enjoyed books by Jewish author, Harry Turtledove, historical fiction with reversal of war victories.  On occasion, Roger would send us books throughout the years, and he’d also send newspaper clippings, things about Judaism or an article or two about some Chabad events in Daytona.  This too is inspirational as I strive to write and learn.

Roger, my dear father-in-law, I can’t believe your physical destiny is over.  I feel guilty; I haven’t really cried for you, but I don’t necessarily look at that as negative.  I’m a Jew; I realize there’s one G-d and many worlds.  Roger, you once told me you weren’t sure if there’s a G-d, but if there is a G-d, you said you’d like to think He would look at you and see here was a good man.  Roger, I’d like to think you are now proven G-d exists, that your Chasidishe positivity is being validated, that you and Roslyn and Rabbi Eybeschutz are together, smiling with enormous nachas from the lives we lead.

On our first visit to Daytona after Ellen and I were married, in the car you told me you would die for Judaism.  Roger, I promise to live for Judaism.

This isn’t the end of the line.  Your legacy continues.  Gavi will be brought up as a Jew.  Gavi was named after your father, Evie after your wife.

Roger, on occasion I’d tell you that I’m jealous of you, that your innate natural positivity is something that I have to work on myself a great deal in order to bring out just a little bit of what you so easily possess.  I’m trying Roger, and I know by trying, that is what you would have liked, and that’s what’s best for Gavi and for Ellen.

I wonder what Rabbi Eybeschutz and Roger would say to each other if they were both physically alive, together, if somehow there was a time machine, and the two of you met, face-to-face, spoke the same language, in 2013, here on this physical Earth.  Number one, you two are mirror images of each other, those high cheek bones, that penetrating smile. This family’s innate beauty is even matched by its physical appearance.  Roger’s mother was an understudy to Audrey Hepburn.  In one of my phone conversations with Roger, Roger told me he thinks Ellen looks like Ava Gardner.  It’s true.

  If Roger and Rabbi Eybeschutz met, what advice would they give each other?  What disappointments would one see in the other?  What strengths and accomplishments would the two of been proud of in each other?  What kind of influence would the two have on each other, on us?  I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, but I do know we could lead a life that will give you something to talk about positively in the World Beyond.

Roger, thank you for Ellen, thank you for Gillian, thank you for Julie, thank you for your grandfather’s Tefillin, thank you for the legacy, thank you for your positivity, thank you for showing me that I have much to strive for, that while there’s much at stake, there’s humor and soft-heartedness that cannot be forgotten in life.  L’Chayim!